Winter's Kiss (It Happened Like This)
by sockthief
Summary: The 100 are struggling to survive their first winter on the ground. If sickness and starvation don't get them, the grounders will. Bellamy and Clarke are still working on their dynamic as co-leaders, but are they finding themselves hurling towards something more?


A/N: Huge snowstorm in New England. I think I'm coming down with something and /should/ be studying but I'm ignoring both my health and my notes because procrastination is the story of my life. Anyway, this takes place season 1. The explosion at the dropship never happened, Mountain Men never happened, and Finn never happened because I can't deal with him. Also, the Ark is there but not. There's no communication on that front. That being said, the 100 are struggling to survive their first winter on the ground. If hypothermia and starvation don't get them, the Grounders will. Speaking of grounders, Lincoln isn't in this. Wish he was, he's awesome, but it was easier just to leave him out than write him in. Sorry. Nevertheless, enjoy!

0o0

"I didn't think it would start this soon" Clarke mused as thick clumps of white fluff fell from the sky without formation. They fluttered to the ground and stuck there, mocking her. If she wasn't so worried about the coming months, she might have thought the scene was pretty. The trees had already shed their leaves, and the snow stuck to their trunks and froze to their branches.

"We're ready." Bellamy responded from somewhere over her right shoulder. She turned to glare at him, but he didn't notice, as his head was tilted upward, taking in the sight of the sky.

"Influenza, pneumonia, the common fucking cold, Bellamy, not to mention starvation and hypothermia. Need I go on?" she said, turning to face him head on now, crossing her arms. He brought his gaze down to meet her piercing eyes, which would have terrified the rest of the kids, but not him, not anymore. He just gave her his signature smirk and told her to loosen up. They had planned for this. They were ready for winter. They'd be fine.

What they didn't plan on, however, was Murphy setting the smoke house on fire a week later. Whether or not it was on purpose, Clarke didn't know, but if she was worried before, it was nothing compared to the terror and desperation she felt now.

"I'll kill him!" Bellamy seethed as he paced the length of his tent, which admittedly, wasn't very big to begin with. His angry presence seemed to fill it, leaving Clarke to stand her ground by his makeshift bed.

"We're not killing him." She said.

"I said he had one more ch –" Bellamy began again but Clarke cut him off, before he made good on his word.

"We're not killing him, Bellamy."

"Well then what're we going to do?" he sighed, crossing his hands over his chest. Clarke was just glad he stopped pacing. She furrowed her brow in concentration and he raised his expectantly.

"Looking to you, Princess." He continued when she didn't respond. Clarke ignored the nickname – it didn't bother her as much as it used to.

"Anyone we can spare goes hunting. Tomorrow. Split into three groups, one to the east, north and south. The trip to the river for seaweed will have to wait. Everyone else stays here to continue reinforcing the tents against the wind like we planned. As for Murphy, he's on house arrest. Keep him on the third floor of the drop ship for now." She decided. Bellamy gave her a curt nod when she was finished.

"Is Raven making progress with the walkie talkies?" He asked her in afterthought as they exited the tent to make the camp aware of the plan.

"She better have something by tomorrow." Clarke threatened.

It turned out that Raven was a genius. She pulled an all-nighter and got the walkie talkies working, though she didn't know what their range would be once they left the dropship.

"It'll be a field test." She said to a grim looking Clarke before the hunting parties set out. Clarke was confident in Raven's abilities, but she still hated the idea of sending half of her camp out on a gamble.

"Hey," she called to Bellamy after he assembled the three hunting groups – he knew their strengths and weaknesses better than she did – "Don't die out there." She gave him a small smile and he nodded, before moving out with Harper, Miller, and two dozen others.

She sighed and chewed her bottom lip for a moment before rubbing her hands together for warmth and turned to go and check on the tent structures.

Raven, who had also stayed behind, didn't catch up with Clarke until later that day.

"Hey so the walkies have better range than I thought. Miller's group is about three miles out to the east and the frequency is spotty, but I can still hear him. I think we'll lose connection sometime tom – hey where are your gloves?" Raven interrupted herself as Clarke brought her hands to her mouth for warmth. She didn't think she'd been able to feel them all day.

"I gave them to Monroe." Clarke shrugged, "I figured she needed them more than I did." Raven rolled her eyes and handed her a head set.

"Go warm up. Keep up contact with the hunters while we can. I'll take care of things out here." And before Clarke could argue, Raven was off, chewing out a kid to watch where he was going when carrying heavy logs.

Clarke huddled up in the dropship, afraid to touch the wires complexly woven to the circuit board taken from Raven's pod. Clarke just put on the headset and continued rubbing her hands together.

"Raven? Raven this is the south team. Are you still reading us?" came a static-y voice over the headset.

"Bellamy?" Clarke answered.

"Clarke, where's Raven?" he asked.

"Outside. Was there something you needed or just checking in?"

"Checking in. But you'll be happy to know our group caught a two headed dear, a couple of rabbits and something that resembles a bear. Not sure what it is exactly but it's meat."

"Th – that's great, Bellamy." Clarke shivered. Bellamy caught the stutter.

"Are you okay?" he asked, and Clarke wished he wouldn't. But they were closer than they were when they landed, and they knew each other now. Bellamy wouldn't let up if he thought something was wrong.

"Fine," Clarke responded through the headset, "Just cold."

"Well go find a fucking blanket or something. We should be back tomorrow night or early the next morning if the snow slows us down so make sure the smoke house is ready." He reported. Clarke nodded before she remembered he couldn't see her.

"Be careful."

"Will do."

Clarke could recognize the signs of pneumonia easily enough. By the end of the next day, her ribs ached from coughing and she knew if she didn't take it easy, some of them would probably bruise. Her eyes were dark and heavy from lack of sleep and chills shuttered violently through her body. Her throat was sore and her head throbbed.

She decided to ignore the signs.

Raven supervised the construction of the new smokehouse off to one edge of camp, not too far from the herb house Jasper had insisted they build for the nuts, berries and roots they had collected. Clarke headed in that direction to speak with Raven about the frequency of the walkies. She decided to stop for a cup of water near the fire in the center of camp, looking for anything to keep the fire in her throat at bay.

It happened just after she saw Monty and Jasper walking towards her, probably also in search of water, and just before she brought the metal cup to her lips. She felt like her body was no longer her own, and her mind moved faster than her limbs. Clarke knew she was falling, but the only thing she could do was close her eyes as her head hit the frozen ground and the sound of the cup clanking off a small rock resonated in her ears.

When Clarke woke up, she was on a pallet in the drop ship. The first thing she was aware of was the ringing in her ears and that she couldn't move. She was wrapped up in multiple scratchy blankets like a woolen burrito. She then became aware of a girl, a very angry girl, swearing louder than Clarke thought was necessary.

"Shit, Blake, come in! Damn this stupid whether!" Clarke craned her neck to see Raven sitting at the control panel turned comm system where she was tweaking wires and circuits.

"Raven?" Clarke recognized Bellamy's rough voice, even through all the static.

"You need to get back here. Something's wrong with Clarke I don't know what to do I'm not a fucking doctor! Monty and Jasper are trying to make some tea but knowing them it's going to be moonshine or something worse just hurry." Raven rushed, and Clarke wasn't sure if _she_ even caught most of it, let alone Bellamy. There was silence from the other end and Raven swore again.

Clarke decided she felt better already and tried to sit up, groaning in the process, earning her Raven's attention.

"Oh my god you're awake." Raven sighed in relief.

"Bellamy" Clarke mumbled, almost too quiet for her own ears, but Raven caught it.

"He's coming, if he would only answer." Clarke tried to protest, knowing that food for the camp was more important than her well-being, but she was cut off by Bellamy's voice.

"Is she alive?" he asked as if he didn't really want to know that answer.

"Yes," Raven replied curtly, "Hold on." The mechanic ditched the headset and rushed over to Clarke, "Hey shhh it's okay." Raven said soothingly as she rubbed her arms over Clarke's to keep her burrito warm against the harsh winds that threatened to enter the dropship. How Raven even knew where her arms were under all the layers surprised Clarke.

"Lemme up." Clarke demanded, though not every effectively, because Raven gently pushed her back into a horizontal position and not so gently told her to stay put.

"South squad, how far out are you?" Raven asked, once she put the headset back on.

"A mile and a half, maybe less," Bellamy responded promptly, "We'll be there soon." Monty entered the dropship just then, carrying a steaming mug of what Clarke hoped was tea. He assured her that it was, as helped prop her up so she could drink it. It helped her throat, if not much else.

"Bellamy doesn't have to bring his entire hunting party back just because of me. And south squad, Raven?" Clarke musters in a raspy voice.

"It sounds cool. And don't get all hot and bothered they were due back tonight anyway." Clarke rolled her eyes, which hurt her head more than she would like to admit, and finished the tea with Monty's aid before both he and Raven left the confined space of the dropship to await the return of the south squad.

Clarke didn't realize she had fallen asleep again until cold hands were waking her up.

"Hey, Princess." Came a familiar voice from somewhere far away. It wasn't until she came to full consciousness that she realized he was close. Dangerously close.

"Don't," she croaked, "you'll get sick." But Bellamy stayed put. Octavia entered the dropship just then, carrying more tea and a wet cloth.

"Good, you're awake," she said in a soothing voice similar to her brother's, "Here, Bell." She handed him the cloth, which he then tentatively placed against her forehead. Octavia set the tea down and gave Bellamy a look that screamed _don't you dare get sick_ , and left the dropship as quickly as she had entered.

Clarke sat up on her own this time, feeling ridiculous for all the attention. Bellamy guided her to lean against the drop ship wall, and adjusted the blankets so they were still covering the majority of Clarke's body.

"I'm gone for three days and look what happens." Bellamy said lightly, trying to keep the conversation from going where he feared it someday would.

"It's not like I wanted this to happen. It's only going to get worse from here, you know." She reminded him. He shook his head and ran a hand through his messy hair.

"I know that but, " he sighed, unsure if he should continue, "you have to take care of yourself, Clarke. I'm not always going to be here to do it." At this, Clarke's shoulders stiffened, causing an ache in her ribs that she ignored.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded, angry. He ignored her question.

"I heard you gave your gloves to Monroe." He accused instead.

"She needed them more than I did."

"She's going to give them back." Bellamy said in a tone that made Clarke think Monroe wasn't aware of this.

"She needs them more than I do." Clarke muttered again.

"What you need is to sleep," Bellamy changed the subject again, "let's get you somewhere more comfortable." Without warning, he lifted her up, blankets and all, and carried her out of the drop ship to his tent.

"Bellamy!" Clarke protested, now alert with wide eyes.

'Shut up, Princess." He grunted as he set her down on his bed, and yet again adjusted the blankets around her. He smirked at her expression, which was torn between deep sleep and aggravation. Too weak to protest, Clarke shifted into a more comfortable position and Bellamy turned to leave.

"Wait," she called and he turned back to face her, "stay?" she pleaded. Bellamy's heart did weird things inside his chest, and didn't need any invitation besides that one word to sit down beside her and brush loose strands of hair away from her face. Clarke breathed shallowly and closed her eyes.

Bellamy took a leap of faith and shifted so that he was propped up in a sitting position at the head of his bed. Clarke, not yet asleep, shifted as well, and her head came to rest on Bellamy's stomach, her hand clutching his shirt like a lifeline. He would take it. If this was all he ever got, he would take it.

Clarke drifted off, and Bellamy wasn't far behind her, but not before placing a kiss on her temple. If she was aware of it, she didn't say anything.


End file.
